


Take It Slow

by Lumeneas



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Choose Your Own Inquisitor, Depression, F/F, Mental Health Issues, TW:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 09:59:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3763882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumeneas/pseuds/Lumeneas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor has finally hit the wall and finds going around it just as hard as going through it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take It Slow

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Anthesis](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3580824) by [KestrelShrike](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KestrelShrike/pseuds/KestrelShrike). 



The Inquisitor stared listlessly out at the mountains from her fetal position on the tower bed. Her expression was completely dead, save for a pained expression following thick swallow every once in a while. Her mind was a haze, intermittedly roused by a _get up_ or _you’re so useless._ These were always followed by a prickling at the back of her eyes and a lump in her throat. When a breeze blew in from the balcony, she curled a little tighter into herself, hiding her red eyes.

She kept telling herself to just _move_ , at least walk the few feet to the balcony and get some sunshine, but her body just wouldn’t obey. It felt like her limbs were made of the heaviest veridium and she was the weakest child in Thedas; there was no way she could ever lift a single finger, let alone her arms and legs. ‘I’m so pathetic’ she thought, another tear sliding down her red nose and dropping onto the silken sheets below.

She didn’t even know what brought this on. It used to happen all the time in her youth; spells of complete numbness and apathy that nobody could explain. But ever since becoming the Herald, and then the Inquisitor, her mind had been far too occupied to lapse into such a debilitating state, what with constantly travelling to different places to help and save people. She had even found a lover within her circle of companions. So why was this happening now? Why was her mind spiraling beyond the Void and refusing to come back?

What if her advisors came in for some reason or another and found her here, a sniveling mess? Well, maybe not quite that, but definitely indisposed. And if they found out that this was a more or less a regular occurrence? Nobody would look at her the same, treat her the same…Probably wouldn’t even let her alone for fear she might do something incredibly foolish. But she was foolish, she was—

Another shudder ran through her body and desperate choking sounds erupted from her mouth. Why wouldn’t these thoughts stop? So many people depended on her, she needed to _get up_. Not a single movement from her prone form despite her continued attempts at even a twitch. People would start wondering where she was soon. The Inquisitor had never been absent for so long from Inquisition affairs and something needed her attention, it always did. But she couldn’t bring herself to care.

She didn’t move when there was a knock on her door. Didn’t flinch when a voice called out for her; didn’t turn when she felt someone’s gaze on her. She simply tried to seem asleep so she could go back to being numb alone. It obviously didn’t work, as a few more steps later, her view was filled with the face of her love.

Josephine said nothing, only continued to look at the Inquisitor. Initially, she did nothing, but eventually began to squirm under the intensity of the Antivan’s gaze. A small, sad smile graced the woman’s lips and she reached out to lightly touch the Inquisitor’s cheek. Something broke deep inside her at the moment and she reached up to grasp the dark hand and sobbed aloud.

As she cried, Josephine gracefully climbed over her and cradled her love’s head in her lap. She murmured foreign words that the Inquisitor could barely hear and pet the side of her face as she cried. There was no sense of propriety in that moment, simply two lovers in a raw moment of emotion. This went on for an indeterminate amount of time, minutes, maybe hours, before the tears finally stopped. The Inquisitor twisted her neck to catch amber eyes. They gazed at each other, before the Inquisitor nodded her head slightly, giving a slight smile and pulling the other woman down for a gentle, sweet kiss.

“Thank you,” she whispered against lips that tasted of honeyed wine.

**Author's Note:**

> I find Inquisitors with issues much more interesting than perfect ones. Inspired by another fic on Ao3.


End file.
